


Purple Boot Records

by gryffindorcutie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Marauders AU, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Multi, Reader-Insert, Record store au, The Marauders are a band, Threesome - F/M/M, Young Remus Lupin, possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorcutie/pseuds/gryffindorcutie
Summary: In which "The Marauders" are a punk band, and your best friend drags you their show.(Sirius x Reader x Remus)
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Reader, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/Reader
Comments: 59
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my brain makes up things nonstop and I just roll with it. so now I'm now working on five fics at once, and yes may the odds be ever in my favor to finish literally any of them....
> 
> I kinda just sat and wrote this whole first chapter out in one sitting and liked it. It will probably be a shorter fic (less than ten chapters). Here's part one. enjoy.
> 
> \----->NO Y/N here. Reader will be referred to as "Fox" (Reader's Last Name)
> 
> Also, this fic will likely include graphic sexual content, intended for readers 18+. please heed the tags.

Godric’s Hollow, London, 1980.

The flickering street lamp over the little shoddy record shop on the corner of the end of the city was always a bit sketchy, but it didn’t really matter. Because Albus, the owner of Purple Boot Records, had invested in about thirty neon signs that lit the little shop in Godric’s Hollow like it was Times fucking Square. Everyone knew Albus. He was a roadie for The Beatles in their prime. He loved music, and he loved the little community in the Godric’s Hollow borough of London.

But this isn’t Albus’s story. It’s yours. And though you did owe Albus for many things: your best friend, your job, and even your flat… This one’s about you, one of the many teenage misfits who found a home in Albus’s shop. You had been lucky enough to found an oasis from this shitty world in music, and though you had come from a broken home, you finally felt that you belonged here: Purple Boot Records. 

When you were fifteen, Albus sold you the first record you ever bought with your own money. And he introduced you to Lily Evans, his grand niece, and most of the music that changed you forever. You could spend hours listening to music and talking with Albus. He held a wisdom beyond his years, even though he was definitely a self-proclaimed ‘old fart’ by now.

An ‘old fart’ that wore heeled purple boots every single fucking day… and the most dramatic outfits you had ever seen. Gellert, his long time partner, was the polar opposite, always in black monochrome. They had the healthiest romantic relationship you’d ever witnessed, and in your opinion, anyone who thought they shouldn’t be together could piss off. Especially the hyper-religious zealots that raised you.

But then again, no one was so close-minded around Godric’s Hollow, or most parts of the city. Albus Dumbledore didn’t tolerate it in his shop, or his community.

Really, though, this story’s about you. It takes place five years after you discovered Albus’s record shop, on a night which you’ll never forget. And it all starts with your roommate and best mate Lily Evans begging you to go out as you closed up the shop together.

“No, absolutely not.” You shake your head at Lily continuously, as if to emphasize your very strong opinion on the matter.

“Please?” She clasps her hands together, as if praying to you for benevolence.

“ _Hard_ no from me, Evans.” You snort. “I’m not going to some shit punk show just because you want to shag the singer.”

Lily sputters, setting her box of records on the storeroom floor with a loud crash that has you vaguely concerned for the vinyl. 

“I don’t want to shag him!” She insists. “Not right away… And I thought you liked shit punk bands?”

You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall of flyers and posters leading towards the loo.

“No, _you_ like that whole spiky jacket, mad at the world, thin eyebrow, _shit_ music, not me.” 

Lily rolled her eyes. For someone who listened to some pretty hardcore stuff, she dressed with the aesthetic of a summer sunflower. It was all denim and yellow and green. Happy colors to match her bright, freckled smile. She looked like the month of September. When it was warm outside but the leaves were starting to turn. Her eyes were the color of the evergreens and her hair like the vivid orange leaves on the ground. 

And she was a girl who liked death metal and angry punk music. 

“That’s because you like my grandma’s ‘doo-wop’ love song _snoozefest_ music and still listen to fucking simon and garfunkel.”

You pout, “What’s wrong with love songs? And who says I can’t like Simon and Garfunkel?”

You weren’t ashamed that you did. But you worked in a record shop and liking decade-old mainstream classics openly wasn’t exactly a way to collect street cred. 

“No one. It’s just, you always put it on when we close together. Always that, Cat Stevens, or some other soft shit.”

Lily rolls her eyes from the floor where she’s restacked the records. She points to the main room where, as if on cue, the record you put on has started playing the last song. It’s _At the Zoo_. You’d forgotten you’d put it on right when you locked the door, zoning out to the album as you had returned all the records to their proper places.

So peaceful music helped your mind relax and unwind for the night. So what? Especially after listening to the harsh, punchy rock the shop played all day. All the moaning and yelling and screeching. Ugh. So you were a softy, so what? Some of the best music was the B-side acoustics.  
And it’s not like you didn’t like _any_ of the angry music that was flying off the shelf lately. About half of it was actually pretty good. You just preferred things a bit more mellow.

“Okay so I like to relax when I’m closing. So?” You huff. “You’re the one who asked me to put something on for us!”

“Not something that would put me to sleep.” Lily pops her gum pointedly. “Come on, you're just going to sit by the lamp in the living room and read all night. I’ll go to hell if I don’t save you from wasting your youth.”

“Wasting my youth?” You smirk at her dramatics.

“Right.” She nods. “You can’t keep thinking you’ll meet some tall dark stranger at a bookshop. No one at a sodding cafe is going to make you feel that kind of thrill you’re after, or... or get your heart racing, _if you know what I mean._ Bookish guys are too shy to ravish you properly.”

“Jesus Christ, you really want to shag that singer, don’t you?” You laugh. 

“He has _glasses_.” Lily cries, pouting. “And probably has rough, sexy, guitar-player hands. Plus, when he first came into the shop he-”

“He walked into the screen door because he was busy staring at you.” You finish. “Yeah, I know. I was there, remember? I wasn’t particularly blown away by him, like you were, Lils.”

She scoffs, offended.

“You don’t have to be. He’s _my_ future husband.” Lily declares dramatically. “Unless, my closest and most wonderful friend refuses to come with me to his show! If I don’t go, then maybe he’ll meet someone else. Maybe I’ll die alone, wondering what could have been...”

She puts the back of her hand to her forehead, feigning like she will faint, gripping the counter as if it’s the only thing left keeping her alive. 

“You can’t guilt me into this.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m _not_ going. I don’t want to go. I want to take a nice bubble bath and finish my book and-”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this with you.” You grumble, pulling your borrowed t-shirt down.

Lily swats at your hand. “Stop that! It’s cropped for a reason.”

You roll your eyes.

“And don’t pull up your jeans too high either, or you’ll look like a suburban minivan mom.” She adds, without having to look at you. 

You’re on the tube, headed to the show. Not because you’re easily manipulated into doing “fun” things with your best friend, but because if you didn’t, she would have gone alone. And the streets at night are always sketchy when you’re born female. You shouldn’t have to travel in pairs, but it is what it is.

Your hands ball into fists at your side as you make your way down the street. You feel out of your element, and you’re not even at the show yet. As you climb the stairs, you wish you had brought a jumper. It’s chilly. Lily had insisted that only ‘boring ninnies’ carried around sweaters at these sorts of shows, and it would be too hot once you were inside. 

‘Better to not have another thing to lose’, that was the logic that sold you. 

“Oh! Look, Alice and Frankie are here.” Lily says cheerfully, interlooping her arm into yours as you cross the street. 

Sure enough they are. And they’re already eating each other's faces. They’re standing on the corner opposite the venue, as if they happened to be waiting for you both.

“You knew they were coming, didn’t you?” You shoot an accusing look at Lily.

“Uhhh what? Hey, let's get in line before it gets long. I want to get a spot in the front so I can see him properly.” Lily says, pretending not to hear you. 

You’ve actually never seen her so boy-crazy before, so it’s more amusing than annoying. Usually you were the one falling ‘in love’ with random strangers. On the tube, in cafes, in line at the supermarket. Cute, tall strangers who you never saw again. No one special.

It was safer that way. Better to not get involved with anyone who could break your heart.

In line, Lily, Alice, and Frank chat about the band. Apparently they called themselves ‘the Marauders’. 

“Like… pirates?” You ask, arching a brow. Gah, _of course_ they had some cheesy punk name for their cheesy punk band.

“Yeah, well, sorry we couldn’t get tickets to Elvis for you, Fox.” Frank says sardonically, calling you by your last name, as your friends often did. 

Fox, Foxy. Never your first name. Not the one your Super-Religious parents picked out for you. 

“Look, I don’t only listen to-”

“Stop it, Frankie. Bet Foxy here would rather be at home right now, wouldn’t you?” Alice laughs, nudging you playfully. “Stop teasing her or she’ll never come out with us again.”

“Sorry, love.” Frank grins. 

Aaand then they’re swapping spit again. Lovely.

Inside, it’s packed, and Lily drags you through the sea of bodies to the front. There’s a group of girls in what looks like homemade, ripped up t-shirts with the band’s name on it. Lily elbows through a pair of them to situate the two of you in the very front. 

She’s shameless.

You, on the other hand, are mortified. You can’t help but feel anxious wondering… Were you going to have to… _dance_? In this place. Were the lights going to be this bright?

You sip the cup of beer in your hand and glance around at the crowd. Everyone’s wearing black and spiky things and it couldn’t be any more cliche. 

You’re wondering if you ought to have dyed your hair blue for the occasion when Lily’s new loverboy peeks his head through the curtains and the girls in the front screech excitedly. He looks around before landing on the front and center. Did he see Lily? Or were the lights too bright.

Then, without warning, he’s leaping over the drum set dramatically like a fucking gazelle or something. He lands on his feet, surprisingly, and he grabs the front guitar. Then he steps up to the microphone.

It screeches with feedback as he straightens the cord, pulling it to his lips with a boyish grin.

“Testing, testing.” His deep voice drawls into the speakers.

Lily nudges you excitedly. Maybe it’s because he’s on stage and oozing confidence, but you admit it. 

“Okaaay, I guess he’s kinda cute.” You tell her in with a reluctant smile. 

She grins, looking up at him with puppy eyes. She’s a goner and you both know it. And then he finally sees her. His grin stretches further, all dimples and mischief as he strums a few chords, testing his instrument. Slowly, three other guys make it onto the stage like they’re in no particular hurry. 

A skinny guy who's kind of small, with a shaved head sits at the drumset. Another tall guy with sandy brown hair and a lip ring picks up the other guitar. He’s cute. Sort of a Boy-Next-Door type. His hair is brown and curly and ruffled. He’s gorgeous but probably doesn’t know it. 

And then a tall guy ducks through the curtain and saunters lazily to the front. And you... You feel your your body light up in attention. It’s like you’re the hammer game at a fair and instead of strength, you’re measuring hotness. And this guy… his sheer fucking beauty has knocked your numbers off the charts and ding ding ding, he gets the giant fucking teddy bear. 

Like, you get real whole legitimate butterflies. The kind you read about in sappy romance novels. The feeling that you haven’t quite experienced since someone asked you out in grade seven. He’s a fucking _speciman._

He’s got silky long black hair that falls just past his shoulders, a square jaw, and many, _many_ tattoos. He’s wearing just one earring. Black shirt and black jeans. 

He seems relaxed, confident. With an ease that should be illegal, he lifts the big black bass guitar and slings it over his shoulder.

Right next to you, some girl screams.

“I love you, Sirius!!!” 

She’s blonde and pretty and you feel your rollercoaster high of seeing a hot guy crashing down fast. Because this is probably his girlfriend or something. So you focus on the singer. And the pretty-damn-cute guitar player with the lip ring. 

But when your eyes drift in the pretty bass player’s direction again, he winks in your direction. At the blonde girl next to you, probably. You ignore it, turning to Lily and downing your drink. Alice hands you another, finally having pushed her way through the crowd with Frank. Frank is tall, so he’s made to stand behind you and Alice.

You turn back to him to offer your place, since you don’t really care about the show. “You sure you don’t want my spot?” You ask. Or try to...

But he’s already making out with Alice again. 

“Right, fuck me, then.” You call out loudly to him, even though he’s not listening and neither is Alice.

In fact, you manage to shout it just as there’s a quiet lull in the crowd and the speakers have cut out for a beat. So everyone in a twenty foot radius hears you, and begins chuckling to themselves. Including the guys on stage. 

Your cheeks grow warm, and Lily is just full on cackling. You roll your eyes, flipping her the bird as she claps a hand on your shoulder to keep herself up while she laughs. 

You smile, relenting a bit at her goofy smile. But when you turn your attention back up front, sexy bass player is looking _right at you._ A sly smirk on his lips. And your heart skips a beat.

It’s unfair that his eyes are almost silver. A light, blue-grey that should be illegal. Facial proportions of a Greek god or something. And he’s smiling at you. 

You avert your eyes to the other side of the stage. But the cute lip-ring guy is also looking your way. Probably at the crowd behind you, but you can’t be sure. His lips are moving, but you don’t hear anything. The singer smirks, shrugging as they try to figure out the sound problem.

Your cup of beer. That’s the only place where it’s safe to stare. So you stay there until your cheeks cool back down.

The crowd grows restless waiting for the sound issue to be resolved and Lily leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Bass player’s kinda sexy, if you ask me...” 

You shrug, pointedly looking straight ahead at the drumset. 

“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” You take a sip of your beer. 

The singer shouts somewhere backstage, pointing to the mics, and suddenly it's all loud screeching as the sound stabilizes.

“Fuck!” The singer shouts at the noise, and his voice is finally amplified through the speakers. “Right, there we are. I’m James, We’re the Marauders, and this is _Minnie, won’t you date me?”_

And then they begin to play. 

It’s not at all the loud, angry noise you’re expecting. It’s… fun. Upbeat. The drum and bass thump in time with your heartbeat, and you find yourself swaying along. And James, the singer has a nice voice. He’s not screaming. What’s better, the lyrics are all humorous. 

This one’s about asking his college professor to date him, because he’s into old grey feisty redheads that like telling him what to do, apparently. You’re laughing along, despite yourself. 

After the first three songs, James pauses to drink from a cup of beer. The lip ring guy, the hot bassist, and the drummer keep up a beat as James then introduces the rest of the band. 

Peter the drummer. Remus on guitar. And Sirius on bass. The hot bassist was named after a fucking star. Which you only knew because you’re taking an astronomy class at Uni. Jesus. He even has a hot name. 

You’re still considering this as James leans into the mic, looking right at Lily as he says: 

“This song is about a pretty girl I met in a record shop last week.” The crowd goes nuts, whooping and whistling. Lily has never smiled so much. 

This James guy, he’s smiling really big too. Like it was just Lily in the crowd. 

You stare between them, slack-jawed. _He wrote her a fucking song? Holy shit._

“It’s uh, it's a work in progress.” James shrugs, and the crowd cheers their encouragement.  
“I wasn’t going to play it tonight because I didn’t think she would show, but er, she did, so… What do you guys think, should I play it?” 

“Fuck Yes, Ahhh!” Frank screams the loudest, most high-pitched scream you’ve ever heard, and you snort, laughing. He’s a total idiot. That was why you're friends, after all. 

James has to turn away from the mic, clutching his stomach as he laughs. “Wow. Thanks, Mate.” He winks at Frank. He can’t stop laughing, though. 

“This, er, ” James smiles wide, still pulling himself together “This one’s called ‘I Walked Into A Fucking Door.” 

The drummer falls off as James strums a slower tune and begins to sing. 

_“When we’re old and gray we’ll have a story,  
A story that our kids won’t dare believe.  
But my friends, it’s really true,  
True as the sky that day was blue_

_When I saw an angel in a record shop._

_And…_

_That’s when…_

_I walked into a fucking door.  
Yes, I walked right into a fucking door.  
I saw her pretty green eyes,  
then I was face up towards the sky  
Because I walked into a fucking door._

When he’s done, you’re shocked and impressed. Lily is positively glowing. You’re amazed that an actual guy wrote an actual song for your best friend (who totally deserves such a cool thing to happen for her) You’ve accepted it. Lily Evans is the main character. 

This is her world and we’re just living in it. But little do you know… Well, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. 

So you’re feeling glad that you came, because something innocent inside you really hopes that they actually do get married now. Sure, twenty is young, and they only met a week ago, but guys like this _just don’t exist_. Everyone knows that. 

But again, this isn’t their story, it’s yours. 

Almost… 

So as you’re about to leave the show with Lily and Frank and Alice, you’re in a happy post-show buzz ready to call it a night. But then James hops off the stage (again, like a prancing deer or something, _what the hell?_ ), pushes past the group of girls in the homemade t-shirts, and walks right up to you. 

Well, to Lily. 

“Hey.” He says, wiping his sweaty brow with a hand towel in a way that was almost gross but still managed to be charming because he was in a band and wrote her a fucking _song_. “You came.” 

Lily grins. “I did.” 

They smile more at each other, and Frank claps James on his back. “You guys were great.” 

“Thanks,” James nods, his eyes still glued on Lily. “Me and my mates were just about to get a burger. Want to come? Your friends should come too, of course.” 

He smiles at you, Frank, and Alice. “The more the merrier, right?” 

“Alright.” Lily agrees. 

She doesn’t seem to notice Alice and Frank slipping away, probably about to head back on their own to their flat and shag or suck faces or whatever happy couples do. 

They are already at the door. 

James doesn’t notice either. He just stares at Lily, beaming, and she stares up at him, grinning. It’s all sweet and adorable and again, it’s still your story, but it's _their moment._ An important moment which led to another which led to you squeezing into a booth next to Lily in some hole-in-the-wall burger joint that was open all night. 

You, Lily, and James had arrived first, and promptly ordered. Not long after, the rest of the band trailed in after. They all sat at another table. You only take a short glance in their direction to find Hot bass player with his arm around the blonde from the show. Perfect. Yep, he’s taken. You look away when Cute lip-ring guy catches you staring. Because he smirks, and it catches you off guard. 

You pretend to pay attention to what James and Lily are talking about. 

Your ears are still ringing from the sheer volume of the show, and you’re hungry and tired and buzzed. You’re currently folding your receipt into the tiniest square manageable, quietly letting James and Lily hit it off, when someone slides into the seat across from you. 

You’re kind of in a trance, waiting for the cook to call your number. Forty-Two. The answer to the universe. Four. Two. It seems like everyone else has had their food and finished it, but your order still hasn’t come out. 

They had been calling Twenty-Four for what felt like ages. It made you even more light-headed and tired to think of how long it was going to take to get to your curly fries and cheeseburger. God, your mouth was watering just thinking of it. 

You glance up for just a second, and find those silvery blue-grey fucking _incredible_ eyes studying you. 

Lily kicks you under the table, hard. You gasp, clutching your shin up towards your chest. 

“What?” You ask, wincing. “The fuck is your problem?” You glare at her, drawing your lower lip into your teeth. 

She just gives you a pointed stare and glances briefly across the table, nodding towards the guy across from you. 

“Aren’t you going to answer him?” She chides you, smirking. 

You feel both your eyebrows shoot up as you look back to him. “Sorry?” 

Hot bass player smirks, tilting his head at you. 

“I said I think I owe you an apology…?” 

He gives you a sheepish smile, gesturing to his empty plate. There on the red rimmed plastic tray was a metal number. _Forty-Two._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think <3
> 
> and apologies to the six people who read this before I fixed the italics formatting error.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, I'm working on too many things at once, plus the holidays, plus being ill, etc etc
> 
> also while the first chapter came to me easily, I started overthinking it this time. hahaha

You stare blankly at the empty tray across from you for a long moment. It actually takes a whole minute for you to process the fact that this stupidly handsome idiot ate your cheese burger and your hot, crispy curly fries. And he’s _smirking_ about it. He doesn’t even look sorry.

Here you’d been, quietly sitting in your own world for almost an hour, dreaming of a nice juicy burger of your own, and he’s smirking like he hasn’t committed the greatest possible sin against another human being. He actually _stole your food._

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring hard at the man across from you. His smile stretches wider.

You sigh, “Are you being serious?” 

Maybe he’s teasing you. 

No, the only thing taunting you is that little metal number on the tray. 42 is definitely your number, and he definitely ate your food.

“Well, I’m always Sirius, love.” He says, smirking like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

“Whatever.” You get it. The joke is, his _name_ is Sirius. Ha ha. You don’t bother giving a patient chuckle at the pun. Instead, you look at the counter where that abandoned tray of food has been sitting for at least twenty minutes. It’s probably cold. But at least it would be a meal.  
“So you must be number twenty-four then?” 

He nods, still grinning. It would be dazzling and you’d be all kinds of flustered if your blood sugar hadn’t dropped to the point where you’re in the foulest of moods.

“Did you at least order curly fries?” You say, mostly to yourself. 

You can see the burger, dare you hope that there are also round ringlets of perfectly seasoned, fried, and delicious potatoes on the other side of that tray?

“Er, no.” He says, eyeing you with renewed amusement as your face falls. You have a minor violent urge to reach across and smack his pretty face. His stupid chisled jaw and stupid icy blue eyes and stupid high cheekbones. 

You turn your gaze to Lily, exhaling shakily. She puts her hand over yours reassuringly. Between the two of you, you were definitely the one with the short fuse. She listened to angry music but was very mellow, while you listened to soft music and… expressed yourself quite vividly from time to time. 

“Its just fries, Fox.” She bites her lip, glancing at James and then back at you as if to say. _Please don’t lose your cool over some petty french fries, don’t ruin this for me. He wrote me a song, Fox._

Mentally, you count to ten. Then you arch a brow at Sirius’s smugly beautiful face, tilting your chin upwards.

“Fine.” You snap. “Go on, then.”

“Hmm?” He says, still grinning. He thinks he’s so cute. Well he is, but you’re really not impressed by that fact right now.

“You said you owed me an apology, but you never actually said the words. _Go ahead._ ” You hold his gaze with narrowed eyes.

His arrogant smile falters as you keep your face neutral. His charming smile probably drops panties everywhere he goes, but it’s not gonna mend the irreparable damage of his eating what didn’t belong to him.

“Er, right. Sorry...” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was an honest mistake.”

“Right.” You sigh at his lack of true, heartfelt words, and stand abruptly. This conversation is over. You need to eat something before you get arrested for assault.

You walk to the counter, feeling eyes on you. You snatch the tray from the counter with the number twenty-four, eyeing the burger with a deep disdain. Almost spilling out the sides are copious amounts of red onion slices.

“What kind of sick person gets _extra_ onions?” You mutter to yourself, pumping some ketchup into a little paper cup by the soda fountain.

“You should see what he eats around our flat.” Says a deep voice behind you.

You startle, clutching your chest as if to keep your heart from bursting out your chest. _Who the_?

It’s the lip-ring guy. And jesus fucking christ he’s standing close to you. He reaches over your shoulder, grabbing a packet of salt. You can sense how he’s practically brushing up against you.

“A lot of fucking pickles, for one.” Hot lip-ring guy continues, still way up in your personal space. His greenish-hazel eyes flicker back over to the booth you came from, where Hot Bass Player was apparently just watching you both from. Sirius looks away, though, when you catch him staring. 

Remus smiles wide as he stands in front of you, stealing your attention again. “He’s a twisted freak, our Sirius, but he’s alright. Usually, that is... Er... I’m Remus.”

You shrug, sidestepping the cute lip ring guy with your tray. You just want to eat. Not talk about his friend’s eating habits. “Neat.”

You’re too hungry and irritated to be amused by his nervous expression. Too annoyed to make small talk, even with this cute guy who’s in a band. You just want food in your stomach. Is that too much to ask? _Apparently._ Ugh!

“Want to sit with me instead?” Remus asks behind you as you begin to walk towards Lily. 

You pause, glancing back at him. He gives you a hopeful smile, which temporarily short-circuits your brain, before sauntering closer. He leans forward, whispering in your ear. “Maybe give my mate and yours some time alone, yeah?”

His warm breath and apparent lack of understanding when it comes to the meaning of personal space has you practically shivering. Lip-ring, Remus that is, grins as he pulls back, and hell... He has fucking dimples. 

Your weakness. Dimples and a strong jawline. Even more powerful than curly fries. 

“Yeah alright.” You concede, dazzled a bit by his lazy dimpled grin. 

You follow him to his table. He slides into the semi-circular booth first, then pats part of the bench next to him. You slide in, placing your tray in front of you.

“Sorry about Sirius,” The blonde girl says, rolling her eyes. “He’s not always this useless, he’s just spacy like that sometimes.”

You shrug, “It’s fine.” It’s not though. It really isn’t fine. Jackass. Who eats an entire meal before realizing it belonged to another person? It wasn’t even the same order...

The girl nods, pulling out a pen from her pocket and pulling a napkin from the dispenser. She starts drawing and you find yourself watching it curiously.

“I really am sorry,” Hot-Bass-Player-Sirius says, standing from the other table. He has that lazy, arrogant smile on his face again, which irritates you. So you shrug, staring at the plate of food. You’re unwilling to pretend it’s alright he ate your food. Because it isn’t. 

That was your _food_. And a girl’s got to have standards.

You weren’t likely to easily forgive such a slight, even if he is a solid eleven out of ten in the looks department. They were fucking _curly fries_ , after all. To your dismay, he joins you at this table now, sliding in right next to you.

Leaving you sandwiched between himself and Remus.

You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore him. You bite bitterly into the burger after finally pulling all the extra onions out. Sirius seems to be biting back an amused smile, which makes you more irritated. It’s room-temperature now, and a good deal less satisfying than you’d hoped, but it’s still food.

Almost immediately, your head feels less fuzzy and irritable.  
The table has fallen silent since your arrival, and even though you really don’t feel like it, you decide to comment, if only to get the attention off of you.

Yummy-lip-ring, sorry _Remus_ , is fiddling with his salt packet over his now-empty tray. He’s using it like a skateboard, pushing it around his corner of the table. 

“So… what’s with the salt?” You ask him after swallowing another bite. See? You can be cordial to people who don’t eat your food. _Nice_ , even. Well, you’re trying to be, at least.

It drops from his fingertips almost instantly. Are you imagining a blush on his cheeks? 

“Oh… s’nothing.” He says.

You nod, shrugging. “Alright...”

Well, at least you tried, didn’t you? Hot-food-thief chuckles beside you.

“He probably just wanted a reason to talk to you, love.” says Sirius, who reaches across you to ruffle Remus’s hair. “Didn’t you, Moony? Not a bad approach. I would have done the same thing.”

Apparently this guy doesn’t have a concept of personal space either. You scowl at him, though he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Piss off, Padfoot.” Remus swats his hand away, chuckling with that adorable blush. Finally he meets your eyes with a shrug. “Well, he’s right, though. I did just want to talk to you.” The corners of his lips turn up with self-derision.

“Oh.” You reply, dumbly. You blink, failing to offer a response that he could respond to.

Good one. This is why Lily is the main character, you decide. You’re hardly smooth in these types of situations. When anyone attractive is being even mildly nice to you, your brain just sort of shuts down. And then you end up in weird situations. Like this one, where you’re sort of gaping at that lip-ring, wondering what it's like to kiss someone with one of those. He leans forward, smiling. 

You sort of get it now. He’s shy, but only relative to the larger-than-life personality of James and the sheer sex appeal of the guy on your right. This Remus guy is still confident enough to completely disarm you and know what he’s doing.

It’s your turn to flush, looking away. Across from you, the blonde girl gives you a friendly, knowing smile. Sirius pulls back then and slings his arm over the top of the booth. _Behind you._ Immediately, your blood’s boiling again. You narrow your eyes at him, popping a boring, _regular_ fry into your mouth. 

His eyes follow the movement with a smirk, eyes twinkling. Which up close, very close, makes your stomach erupt in butterflies. 

You open your mouth, snappy insult itching to release itself from your tongue, but then you look over at Lily, who seems to be having the time of her life. Sirius arches an eyebrow, silently daring you to speak as he glances down at your lips. But then you hear Lily giggle at something James says, and you have to force yourself to keep your mouth shut. 

Touche, pretty boy. 

Coming to this booth was a mistake. Lip-ring had just kind-of-maybe flirted with you and now you can’t look at him. You also want to…. want to do _something_ to the guy on your right. Hit him, snog him, yell at him… maybe all of the above.

You turn your attention across the table to the drummer, who seems to be a safer bet. The blonde girl, whose name you should really learn, is now doodling something on the napkin, and you don’t want to interrupt. Whatever she’s drawing actually looks pretty cool. A giant octopus destroying a ship or something.

“So… good show.” You nod to the drummer, as if he were the only person in the band that you cared to compliment.

“Well thank you very much.” The guy positively beams. 

“How long have you been playing?” You offer, biting your burger again. 

His face lights up. “I’d say… nine years? Got my first set when I was thirteen. Played night and day. Drove my parents nuts.”

“Really?” You nod, impressed. “That’s dedication.”

“I’ve been playing for twelve years.” Sirius chimes silkily in your ear, and you ignore him.

“I always thought drums were the most difficult to learn.” You say to Peter-the-drummer and _only_ Peter-the-drummer. “I mean, anyone can play a big slab with, oh, i don’t know… four measly strings. Drums require a whole retraining of your brain, your spatial coordination, so you can do so much at once. It’s incredible.”

Besides you, Sirius chuckles good-naturedly. You ignore the way that his deep voice makes you feel things. 

Peter throws his hands in the air. “Thank you! Exactly.”

You smile at his enthusiasm. The blonde meets your eyes, giving you a warm smile. Clearly Peter was the overlooked member of the band. It feels satisfying to play to this guy’s neglected ego and ignore the hot, walking-sex-appeal Sirius who’s staring right at you. 

After finishing your food, you're starting to feel normal again. Less grumpy. But not enough to acknowledge the asshole to your right as you listen to Peter continue to gush about his passion for music. Remus has resumed fiddling with the salt packet and you find yourself watching him. He looks as tired as you feel. 

A fellow introvert, then. A kindred soul. You wonder if he likes to read. He’s clearly unaware at how attractive he is just fiddling with a packet of salt. An entire opposite of the leather-jacket-wearing food thief next to you. 

As if reading your mind, Sirius’s thigh presses alongside yours. You almost choke, but hold it in. Then you pull your thigh away from his, lifting your leg up and across your other leg. Although, that only backfires.

Because then there’s a warm, calloused hand on your lap, thumb brushing against your skin through a hole in your ripped jeans. His hand is practically staking a claim on you, and Remus notices, pausing in his hand on the salt packet. He tilts his head, watching you curiously. The thumb belonging to Sir Jackass starts to trace circles on your skin. It’s shameful how it sends a jolt of hot want right to your core.

Maybe Lily was right, you need to get out more and get laid. But not with this guy. Clearing your throat, you face Sirius with a stern look. 

“Mind keeping your hands to yourself?” You snap. He might be gorgeous, but you’re not that easy. Especially not for a man who ate your food.

He pulls both hands back, holding them up in surrender. 

“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, chuckling, then points to Lily, who’s standing over the table with a wide grin. “Er. I was just trying to get your attention.”

He and Remus exchange a glance, but you train your eyes on Lily, ignoring it all.

“Fox.” She says with a fierce determination

“Fox?” Sirius asks, with a shit-eating grin. “That’s your name? Hmm.”

“Lils?” You drawl in response, ignoring him. 

“Foxy,” Lily grins. “I was just thinking, we should have them all come over to our place sometime. Like, Friday maybe?” 

You frown, “Lils…” 

Then she pulls a pouty face on you. “Pleeease?”

You glance at Remus and avoid the deviously smirking Sirius. He gives you a shy smile, drawing the lip ring into his teeth as he starts fiddling with the salt packet again. Fucking hell, you want to do that to his lip ring.

“Oh, alright.” You nod, deciding that’s exactly what you’ll do if the opportunity presents itself next Friday.. “After we close?”

“Cool.” Lily says, happily. “Well James is taking me home now. Our place is in the same direction as theirs, it seems. See you at home?” 

You nod. She was taking a train with him for some alone time. You would catch up at home. She smiles bigger than you’d ever seen. She must really like this guy. It causes you to become lost in your thoughts for a moment as they say their goodbyes.

Then you’re watching as Lily and James walk out the door holding hands. She’s your best friend, but you can’t help but feel a bit jealous of her finding such a great guy. You slump back in your seat, pushing your extra fries around. If they were curly fries or even remotely warm they would have been gone by now.

The blonde snorts after a minute, “Jamie sure moves fast, doesn’t he?”

They all nod, shrugging. 

“Hey,” Sirius nudges you. “I have a motorbike, you know, if you wanted a ride...” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course Fabio has a motorbike. Ugh, and a raspy, deep voice. And those eyes. Fucking hell. Still, you won’t bite. He’s expecting you to forgive and forget. It’s too soon.

“And what about you?” You say, smiling as you looked up at Remus. You lean closer to him, away from Sirius. He was probably used to attention from girls with his godlike looks, but he was far too smug and irritating to give in so soon. 

“I, er…” 

“Remus has an oyster card. ” The blonde snorts. 

“Perfect, we can ride together?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes. He nods, taking you by surprise as his hand finds your knee. Your mouth feels dry, your pulse races, and you swallow hard.

“Sure.” His dimples. Fucking hell. “Sounds perfect.” 

Your stomach does a flip. Well, this is a new development. You don’t know what to expect around this guy. One minute he’s shy and the next he’s completely disarming you. Oh, and he shares some unreadable look with hot bass player, looking almost smug for a moment. It’s unexpected, that smug look, and frankly it's very attractive.

The drummer rolls his eyes. “I’m going home as well. Coming Marley?”

She nods “Sure. See you guys around, then.” She gives Sirius a wink and waves to you and Remus. 

Outside the burger shop, Remus and Sirius linger with you as Marley and Peter walk ahead to a van parked on the street, which probably holds all their gear. There’s a wizard painted on it, and a wolf howling at a moon. Doesn’t really fit the pirate theme, but it is what it is.

They wave goodbye to you, heading back to their shared flat. It’s unclear whether they’re together or just friends. She did scream that she loved Sirius at the show… but didn’t seem upset at his flirtations with you. Whatever. Maybe you’ll find out on Friday.

“Fox, _Foxy._ ” Sirius is apparently trying out your name in different accents “An unforgettable name for an unforgettable girl. Foxy... it’s definitely how I’d describe you, if not a bit vindictive. I'm wounded, you know...”

You roll your eyes, but this only seems to spur him on. He takes your hand in his, dropping dramatically to one knee. Peter and Marley disappear from sight as they drive away.

“How ever will I make it up to you?” He pleads, pressing the back of your hand to his face like he’s on stage in his own personal production of Romeo and Juliet. “How can I plead for your forgiveness, oh cruel, beautiful, Fox.”

You snort, pulling your hand, but he doesn’t let it go. 

“I’m afraid stealing curly fries is a mortal sin.” You say gravely. At the end you smirk, though, and his smile stretches into a wolfish grin. “And there’s added insult to injury with how many onions I had to pick from that burger. It’s not up to me to forgive you, Romeo. That’s between you and god now.”

Your playful teasing seems to enrapture his attention. He tilts his head, regarding you with an oddly pleased look.

“Oh, am I your Romeo?” Sirius grins, “Well, my dear Juliet, If I profane thee with my unworthiest hand... This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

You snort. He’s actually quoting Shakespeare to you. Tosser. It makes you laugh, though. Especially as people stop and stare, watching the scene with unbidden curiosity. This guy really enjoys his attention.

“I don’t think so.” You finally free your hand from his warm grasp, laughing. 

“Really? Not even Shakespeare can earn your forgiveness?” Sirius protests. “And here I had you pegged as the quiet, bookish type.” 

“Oh, have me sorted, do you?” You arch an eyebrow. “Maybe if you quoted Jane Austen, or Douglas Adams, or J.D. Salinger, but definitely not _Shakespeare_. Nice try, though.” 

The three of you reach the tube entrance, and Sirius sighs dramatically. 

“Ah. Well, I guess there’s always next time.” He says, grinning. “Friday, right?”

You raise both eyebrows. “Right, well… I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for forgiveness. I’m very serious about my food.”

“Don’t.” Remus says, and you follow his amused gaze back to Sirius. “Just… don’t, Sirius. It's not worth it. It's just a pun.”

Sirius has this tortured look on his face, like he wants to say something funny but won’t. Instead he bites his fist. 

“Mhm.” He nods exaggeratedly, grinning. “Fine. So… what you’re saying is there’s a chance?”

You look to Remus for help. He just shrugs, smiling at his friend’s antics.

You look into those piercing silvery eyes, smiling. You're about to speak.

But just then, they call for the last train. You have one minute to make it to the tracks.

Remus laughs beside you. “Well, that’s our cue. See you back at home, Pads.” He takes your hand, and together you rush towards the entrance. He smirks back at his friend.

“See you.” Sirius’s shoulders slump as he stays in place and you two jog into the metro station. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow!” He calls out to you both. You glance back over your shoulder once you’re through the gate, and he’s still there watching. He gives you a small wave before turning around and trudging away.

It tugs at your heart. Like he’s some sweet innocent puppy you’re turning away onto the cold street and not some jerk who ate your food. He was funny, at least, which made up for some of it.

Remus takes your hand, tugging you towards the stairs. You run through the station together, racing towards the train, fingers interlocked. The doors are about to close, but he tugs you inside the last car just in time. You stumble, falling into him as you take a place in the crowded train car. His arms steady you, and your eyes linger on his for a moment. Your heart is thudding from the sprint, or maybe it's how he’s looking at you. Or a little bit of both.

“Thanks.” You say, a bit breathlessly. 

“No problem.”

You grab hold of the railing to steady yourself, and his hand slides down so it’s only just brushing against yours. His gaze is trained out the window, though. Maybe it’s accidental.

“So...will you be coming next Friday?” You ask him.

Remus’s lips turn up into a small smirk. “Sure. If you’ll be there, I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “Cool.”

You stand side by side, both smiling to yourselves for a moment. 

A loudspeaker announces an upcoming stop, and half the car empties into the last uptown station. There’s more room around you but neither of you move to make space between you.

“You know…” He says, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. You wait, but he seems to decide better than to say whatever was on his mind. “Nevermind.”

“Wait, what? Noooo.” You laugh, eyeing his lip ring with renewed interest as he absentmindedly bites it again. “Come on, tell me.” You nudge him playfully. 

The train lurches forward and you grip the railing tighter. His arm steadies you again, and you feel a bit breathless from the proximity. 

“I’ve seen you before.” He tells you. “Before tonight, I mean.”

“You have?” 

“We’re in the same astronomy class.”

You blink. “What?”

He rubs the back of his neck, exhaling. “Me and Sirius both are, actually. We’ve seen you in the auditorium before.”

“Oh really?” You’re surprised at this admission. You would think you’d have noticed them before, but there were at least a hundred people in that class and you usually kept your head down, writing notes. “We have a class together?”

He nods, studying your expression. “You sit in the back right corner, always reading something. I tried talking to you after class once, but you walked right past me.”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You laugh, and he cracks a smile. “I’m usually just daydreaming when I walk around campus. Not paying attention. Shit. Sorry.” Your eyes widen, realizing that you're halfway through the semester and never noticed him in your class. You really spent too much time in your head.

He smiles warmly. “It’s alright. I realized that it wasn’t on purpose. And... now I swear I’m not a stalker or anything, but I’ve also seen you around at Pages.”

Your favorite book shop? What a small world. “You go to Pages?” You almost whisper in disbelief. “That’s my favorite book store. I go there all the time.”

“Yeah well, I work there, actually.” He nods. Your mouth opens. You go there at least once a week and you’d never seen him, but apparently he’d seen you. He shakes his head, as if to dispel any idea that he’s going to hold it against you for not noticing him. “You always seem really into whatever you’re reading and I’m usually helping someone... Besides, the first time I tried to talk to you didn’t go so well.” 

Damn. You’ve really been pretty oblivious not to see someone over six feet tall and gorgeous, always around you, noticing you. To think this entire time you could have been getting to know a tall, bookish, dreamy guitar player. Shit! You need to look up from your books more often. You feel like kicking yourself.

He shrugs, grinning. It’s silent for a few minutes, and though your eyes travel around the compartment while you're thinking, they fall back to his again. You stare up at him curiously.

“What?” He says with a sly smile. 

“Nothing.” You smile back, shrugging. “I just wish I would have seen you sooner.”

He shakes his head. “S’okay. I just felt like you should know. That I saw you. First.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion. “First?” 

Remus sighs, shrugging. “Sirius claims otherwise. But actually, he noticed you about a week after I did. He called dibs on… well, _talking_ to you. Said you were out of my league, that it'd be better if he tried..”

You laugh loudly. “Yeah, right. Well that’s just not true.”

Remus shrugs. “Let’s see. Beautiful, smart, and likes reading. Has nice friends. Is nice to my friends. Beautiful. He might have been right.” 

Your heart flutters at the compliment. “Oh? So that’s it. Think you know me then?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. But I’d like to…” He has both his hands in his pockets, shrugging as he smiles down at you. 

There it is. From shy to a fucking knockout. Does he know how he affects you? He has to know how he affects you. 

The train is approaching your stop. You sigh with playful melodrama.

“Oh I don’t know. It's a tough decision. Plays guitar. Works in my favorite book shop. And I’m a sucker for the lip ring, really. I think I’m hopeless to resist.” You shrug. You hold out your free hand to him. He draws his brows together, but eventually puts his hand in yours. You reach into your bag and find a pen, scribbling your number on his wrist. “Call me?”

He nods with a sly smile, and the doors open at your stop. 

“See you, Remus.” You say, passing him as you walk out the door.

“See you, Fox.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think.
> 
> ps. please check my bio for update info. at the moment, I'm expecting some delays in writing but will work on this whenever I have time. thank you all so much for the love on the first chapter. I had so much fun writing it.
> 
> <3
> 
> p.p.s. I know Douglas Adams didn't publish stuff till a bit later in the 80's and Oyster cards didn't exist yet in 1980, but I'll be the first to tell you I don't care about historical accuracy that much. this is pure gratuitous fantasy. hahaha


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